No Guarantee of Outcome

I just finished a solid cry in my truck. Why?

Probably a mixture of not enough food yet, high physical exertion, being a bit over worked (by my own hand), and coming back to performing.

Anyone who has read my blogs, or is familiar with my social media knows I dance. At this point of my life I dance regularly if not daily. Not in what I would consider a professional sense, but I dance in the yoga room at my gym after my workouts. I’m not able to take a lot of classes either because of conflicting work schedules and the overall lack of adult drop in dance classes in Sheridan. But I dance as often as I can. So I consider myself a “dancer”.  

The college is starting their rehearsals for the spring performance, and I am fortunate to be invited to be a part of it. I was as well last year, and it’s an opportunity I’m very grateful for. To work with such a fantastic choreographer like Stephanie Koltiska, and be in a rehearsal/performance environment is everything my little kid heart has yearned for since I was, well a little kid.

This week I also had the chance to take a floor technique workshop from a visiting professional dancer, and as any opportunity to learn and train with someone in person; it was a wonderful experience.

I had a rehearsal this morning, followed by my own rehearsal for the solo I’m choreographing for the performance. I spent a total of four hours dancing and creating, and I’m feeling proud of the piece I’m putting together. There’s been a lot more professional level dancing in my life this week, and for someone who loves to dance, it sounds idyllic. So why was I crying in my truck as I pulled into my apartment’s parking lot?

I was feeling a sense of loss and grief, which is not unfamiliar to me, for all the time lost that could have been spent working towards a professional dancing career. Feeling frustrated for my lack of education and connections, and embarrassment that maybe I’m just too old to be starting all of this now. Mostly I was feeling immense disappointment that I gave up on myself all those years ago, because I now have perspective to understand what hard work can accomplish. I have the perspective to know what I am capable of and earnestly believe in myself and capabilities.

It’s understandable to be feeling this way. It is heart breaking that I was in an abusive relationship at 16 that robbed me of my sense of self-worth, which consequently led me to quitting dance and dropping out of high school. It was in the least life altering that my best friend died in a car wreck a year later, and that I continued on a path of very poor emotional and mental health for almost six years. I wish I could have been the person who rose above their adversity and still went for their dreams. You know, like all those 90’s dance movies showed us. But all I had in me was to try and survive and find happiness where I could.

But as valid as it all is, it doesn’t change the fact that I can’t change the fact. There is no amount of sadness, anger, bitterness, and tears that will change what has already happened. I’ll never be able to go back and shake 17 year old me and make her keep trying. So being angry at her now, for how she handle a very hard situation in the only way she knew how, isn’t helpful and it certainly won’t change it.

The only thing I can do is keep trying. That’s it. If this is what I want, and boy do I want it, all I can do is continue to go for it. To take every opportunity that is offered to me to learn, to make connections where I can, to put myself in the way of the life I want to live. So what if I don’t have a professional resume, or college level dance training, I can’t change that. And feeling sorry for myself, or embarrassed of the fact, doesn’t help me gain those things either.

I feel scared and often inadequate to be pursuing any semblance of a dance career.

But here’s worst case scenario: I try my genuine hardest, and never get hired or accepted to any performance, company, gig, or teaching opportunity. (Which is already untrue because I have done of few of these things, but anyway….)

Well I wouldn’t die or be in any other bodily harm like our brain sometimes tells us failure will bring. I suppose it would be quite disappointing, but certainly not as disappointing or downright painful as not trying. I already know how awful it feels to give up on something I love and want. It feels worse, so much worse than the inadequacy and fear, the not knowing and wondering “what if?”

Already knowing what that all feels like keeps me going when I start to think “I’m not good enough”. Because thinking I’m not good enough is no longer a good enough reason to not try. It never was, but now I have the experience to know it and believe it.

Here’s the deal, there’s no guarantee of outcome. For years I used to imagine if I had just kept going with dance as a young girl I would have made it. But why do I assume that? For all I know I might have still ended up right where I’m at. Let’s say I didn’t quit dance, all the other hard and awful things that occurred in that period of my life would have still occurred. Why do I think just quitting dance is what stopped me from a dancing career. It’s not like I was all that put together, I didn’t have any sense of purpose or direction, or a mentor in the field.  I certainly didn’t have the level of work ethic and responsibility I have now. Regardless of my lacking resume and college level training, I’m 1000% better at trying my absolute hardest and working for something I want than I was at 17 or 18. Without a doubt I am a better, stronger, and more importantly, healthier dancer than I was at 17. I Could continue to play the oh so thrilling game of coulda,woulda,shoulda, or I can live in the present and work with what I’ve actually got at my disposal.

When I really get down to it, I don’t think it’s the pain of stepping away from dance. It’s all the elements that came together to make me feel that was the right choice. It’s hurting for the kid that felt so very lost she gave up something she really loved and needed. It’s the same thing we all go through, old traumas resurfacing with different faces that we to have to unmask and try to understand.

What’s so hope inducing about life is that we can always keep trying. That’s all we have any power over anyway. There’s no promise we will get the results we want, but if we can shift our focus to the process and enjoying the process, we’re a lot less likely to be attached to whatever the results end up being. If you can look yourself in the eye and honestly say “I gave it my all” then we tend to feel proud and content no matter what. Because something deep in us knows we can’t control an outcome, we can only control our actions and responses. So when we feel proud of our actions and responses, and feel like we can live with them and own up to them, everything else feels inconsequential.

So do your very best to let go of the outcome. Focus on what you’re in control of, and keep trying, over and over, day by day. Do the work, be consistent, and enjoy the process. Everything else is just noise.